In These Halls
by simsgal
Summary: I know what you're thinking. "Oh god, another !@% highschool fic!" I know, I know. Hear me out. It'll be good. Our little TDI teens are facing an even bigger challenge than a sinking island, bears, and Chef Hatchets nasty, stank camp food. Something worse than that giant catapult thing and the giant toilet. HIGH-FRICKIN-SCHOOL! R&R RATED T MIGHT GO UP CANON SHIPS/NONCANON/CRACKS
1. 1- Courtney

**Oh Great,** _ **Another**_ **High School Fic**

 **By Simsgal**

 **Disclaimer:** **I do not own Total Drama ;)**

 **Chapter One- Courtney**

It was a sunny morning, slightly breezy. Birds were chirping outside of a certain brunette's window. They were kind of loud, very obnoxious, yet very jovial. Luckily for Courtney, that woke her up, along with the sunlight streaming into her window, instead of her alarm clock. Today was her favorite day.

It wasn't most teen's favorite day, but it was definitely hers, and she wanted it to be absolutely perfect: _The First Day of School._ Most would groan, some would swear, all would whine. But, Courtney had a bright smile on her face and jumped out of bed very quickly, almost falling. She made her bed and used her marker to cross off today. Her brother teased her endlessly for having a calender.

" _Who the hell has a calender, Court?" he would tease her._ She would just ignore him and continue with whatever she was doing. Courtney found it necessary to stay very organized, very clean, and very punctual. She made straight A's, and studied a lot for it. She has been playing volleyball for 3 years. After Freshman year, the coach and manager thought she was so good they upped her to varsity at summer tryouts. She was the only sophmore on varisty. Some of the girls were a little harsh to her but she was such a good player, they began to tolerate and then eventually like her.

It was her first day of Junior Year. After this she only had a year left until college. She was looking at so many schools, and her parents knew that in the mail she would be getting letters and recommendations soon.

The excited girl goes into her bathroom and starts a shower. She washed her hair last night so it was soft and smelled like her favorite scent: cherry coconut. Her hair was dark brown and reached just above her collarbones. Over the summer she surprised her friends and family by chopping off her waist length tresses and came home with a cute new cut. At first they were surprised, but Courtney loved it. She didn't even cry like she thought she would.

Hopping into the shower, she quickly washes herself and washes her face, and then gets out and puts on lotion and perfume. She was also quite the priss. She turned her nose up at a lot of things and her friends relentlessly picked at her about it.

Not that she cared.

Thinking about them made her smile and go to get dressed quicker. She had seen some of them over the summer, but her best friend, Bridgette went to Italy for almost the entire summer. She barely got to see her and was aching to hug her and see if she had pictures from the beautiful country.

For her first day, Coutney slips on a white halter top and olive colored sweater cardigan, and loose, comfortable, jean shorts. She wears her brown sandals, and her toenails are pink, which of course, made her 3 times more excited. She straightens her medium length, thick, curly hair and wore it so it tickled across her shoulders. It was bouncy and energetic, exactly how the brunette was feeling. For her make up, she simply wore mascara, a thin line of eyeliner, and strawberry chapstick. She didn't wear a lot, and lots of people said she looked better with less. Her brown eyes still popped and she grinned at herself. Her freckles were as prominent as ever, which most people commented on considering she was was mixed. Her father was black and her mother was Cuban, and neither of them had freckles, yet Courtney and her little brother, Collin, sported some right acorss their matching noses.

Lastly, the girl grabs her backpack and her small cross-body purse and goes down stairs. Her mother is awake, cooking breakfast. Her father was upstairs showering. She grabs the fresh school supplies off of the counter with her name and slips them into her backpack and then kisses her mother on the cheek.

"Goodmorning mommy." She greets cheerfully. Mrs. Marsales grins her beautiful smile at her daughter. She would never tell her age, but she was somewhere in her 40's. She looked like a more mature version of the younger Marsales girl and had wild but fun curls. Courtney also had them but chose to straighten her hair often.

" _Buenes Dias, mija._ Good morning. I see you are excited." Amara knew her daughter was simply ecstatic about school and was an amazing student. On the other hand, her son didn't like school that much, but still got A's and B's, and the occasional C. "Your brother is still asleep." Courtney nods.

"His first day of high school and he's still sleeping? Isn't he happy about this?" Amara chuckles and finishes up cooking. Her daughter goes to make coffee.

"I guess not. You both have such… contrasting personalities. I simply adore it— _Yo quiero_." There is a thud upstairs and Courtney looks up. She then hears a loud groan. Collin was finally up.

"Speak of wickedness." She mumbles. Her mother gives her a small look and she shrugs. "Kidding. I'll get the toast."

"Toast yes, Toast. Family breakfast." Her father comes down singing. Coutrney adored her goofy father. He could brighten up almost anyone's day. He worked very hard for what his family has. Growing up, he wasn't the most fortunate so he wanted his kids to have the best they could. Cliché, yes; but it meant the world to him. He kept his mother's last name because he wanted nothing to do with his father who was barely around. Disa Marsales raised a good son _._

"Derek if you do not stop all of that singing." Amara warns him, waving the spatula. He places a kiss on the short woman's lips causing Courtney to fake gag. She actually loved that her parents had a good relationship. They joked around like they were teenage sweethearts.

"Collin isn't down yet?" he sighs, before looking through the paper. Courtney swears he is the only person who still reads those things.

"Of course not, he's probably spraying on 30 pounds of nauseating cologne and throwing on pants he wore yesterday. She jeers as her mother gives her another look.

"He's still young. He'll grow out of it. I used to hate baths too." Her father chortles as the women shook their heads. "And don't worry, I heard him showering last night."

"So bad singing does run in this family for males?" Amra titters before Courtney high-fives her.

"Very funny. So, Courtney, are you running for student council again?" Her father already knew the answer to this.

"A thousand times yes! I am so excited. I am totally going to blow my competition out of the water and onto the dirt." She cheers, eating her eggs.

"And be a good sport, I hope?" she just eats more eggs. Courtney was also very competitive. A trait that developed at a very young age.

"You should know Court by now. Ay, _donde es Collin?¡ Tu es muy despacio!"_ Mrs. Masarles groans. "Collin! You'll be late for your first day!" their mother calls.

"I'm coming! Give me a sec!" he screams louder than necessary as Courtney cringes.

God she was going to hate having to go to school with her brother. He was so embarrassing! He was going to make them both look bad. Her father notices her cringe and smiles, rubbing her hand.

"He'll adjust. Don't worry."

"He better." The brunette groans. Then she remembers AP History and perks up once again. Over the summer both Marsales children got their schedules and locker. They knew all of the classes they would be taking, and Courtney knew where everything was. Luckily for her, all of Collin's classes were on the C hallway, which was mostly for freshmen so she would barely see her obnoxious sibling. Her classes were in the D and A hall, and she had gym last period which was across from the auditorium and cafeteria in the center of the large school; _J.D. Wawanakwa Senior High._ It was a mouthful, but one of the best schools in the state.

Finally, Collin comes down the stairs, bookbag over one shoulder. Courtney smiles at her younger brother who looks nice with his short-ish curly haircut and nice outfit.

"Wow, you actually tried today." She smirks as he rolls his eyes at her.

"Shut up." He growls, sitting next to her as the shove each other. Their dad intervenes.

"Now you two stop it. Make us proud. Okay?" Courtney sneers at her brother.

" _Oh,_ I _always_ do." She brags. "Hmph." She flips her hair and puts her nose into the air.

"I wonder how many butts you have to kiss to make those fake straight A's. You're always on the phone with Leshawna or Bridgette." He says disgustedly.

"Collin Derek Juarito Marsales!" his mother hisses at him as he just laughs.

"Kidding, kidding." He says putting his hands up in defense. Courtney just snickers, sticking her tongue out at her brother.

"I swear you guys still act like little kids. Oh, here is your lunch money. Eat healthy." Derek hands each of them a five dollar bill from his wallet. Courtney immediately puts the money in her black leather wallet along with her driver's permit, student identity card, library card, and lots of other things that were neatly in slots. Collin simply balls up the money and puts it in his backpack pocket.

They all eat breakfast together. The Marsales were like the picture perfect family.

 **Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

As soon as Courtney is on campus and exits her mother's car, she takes a deep breath and looks all around.

"Yes! One more year after this, Court!" she says to herself. The Marsales children wave goodbye to their mother and Collin is already leaving to go find some of his friends from junior high. Courtney has no problem with this, even though their mother said for her to help him find his away around.

 _He'll manage. I need to find Bridge and Shawnie._ She thinks determnined before entering the school. The halls are loud, as usual on the first day as friends reunite and trade summer stories about whatever. Girls are squealing and hugging as boys just prefer to be loud and obnoxious, doing their handshakes or whatever. She notices freshmen being too loud and their shorts are too short. She hears bits and pieces of some people's conversations as she walks by, looking around for her friends.

"… _Oh my god, the house was right on the beach…"_

"… _It was so cool. I got to meet him and everything. It was like a dream come true…"_

"… _totally fucking wicked. My bro Mike jumped off of the roof and landed into the pool…"_

"… _. We had sex like, everyday. Yeah, you could say I'm a sex god, or whatever._ " Courtney winces at the latter and peers over to a sophmore. She rolls her eyes at him and his pervert little friends.

She fails at finding the blonde and black girl but goes to her locker and smiles. It's empty and she cannot wait to fill it. She begins sticking in her notebooks, pencils, and markers while smiling. There's a tap on her shoulder and Courtney turns to see her best friend since grade 7/ the seventh grade: Leshawna Brinks. The short girl hugs Courtney and they smile at eachother.

"Girl look at you! You look like a freakin' model baby!" Leshawna gushes. Courtney can't stop smiling.

"And look at you—I see that the accessories are amazing!" the taller brunette replies. Leshawna flaunts her stuff. She was 5'2, thicker than most, and flaunted herself with pride. She was busty and cury everywhere. Many have called her fat but the girl would just brush it off and ignore them because she loved herself. She had a black, wavy, high ponytail going down her back and wore white sneakers, tight capris, and a yellow shirt.

"And I'm only 5'5. That's no where near model height." Courtney says, before shutting her locker gently. "Have you seen Bridgette?"

"Yeah yeah! She's at the guidance office getting her schedule." They go to walk in that direction. "So, how was your summer, girl?" Courtney shrugs.

"Well we visited my grandparents in Boca Raton, Florida. Went to the beach, I mostly caught up on my summer reading." Courtney says, talking animatedly. "I went to the library a lot."

"Summer Reading? Courtney you're too cute, baby." The shorter girl teases. "But I, was living large with my cousin Jasmine! We did all this cool shit. Parties—tell me Court, did you go to _one_ party?" Leshawna asks knowingly. Courtney just chuckles lamely.

"Uh… I went to my cousin's birthday." She says a-matter-of-factly. Leshawna looks surprised, and then waves to another girl.

"Was it a sweet 16? An 18th?"

"12." The brunette replies. Leshawna breaks out into laughter as Courtney's dark cheeks flush. "Whatever!" she squawks. "Let's go find Bridgette."


	2. 2- Bridgette

**IN THESE HALLS**

 **By Simsgal**

 **Disclaimer:** **I do not own Total Drama ;)**

 **Chapter Two- Bridgette**

To Bridgette, going back to school was actually a highlight. The blonde girl did enjoy Europe, and _a lot_ , but she missed her friends and was ready to be a junior. She was a few steps away from becoming a marine biologist so she could help all of the poor animals that needed her help. Being back on campus was somewhat refreshing. She enjoyed seeing how some guys became taller than her and their mannerisms matured or how some of the former gawky, awkward girls bloomed into beautiful, tall hotties.

Everyone always dressed their best for the first two weeks, but Bridgette just kept it simple, with relaxed, cute clothes. She saw lots of dressed and heels, and skirts that were too short not to notice, but the blonde decided on simple jean shorts that revealed her lengthy legs and a light blue off-shoulder top with flip flops. Her long blonde hair was as usual, in a messy-ish beachy ponytail with slight waves. She waves to a few people in the hallway and stops to talk to her good friend Gwen, before making her way to the guidance office to pick up her schedule.

Unfortunately, the line was super long, because just like her many students didn't come to set-up day to get their locker and schedule. She taps her foot impatiently and toys with a zipper on a backpack. She looks around and sees a small, nervous looking girl who had to be a freshman. She was very little and awkward looking. One guy who looked like a straight-up trouble maker, and then her eyes landed on Alpha Bitch of J.D.W Senior High:

 _Heather Zhan._

The blonde can't help it and rolls her mossy eyes at the overly-made up oriental girl, who is already talking about someone with her infamous smirk on her pretty face. Next to is Lindsay Sherfrew, a dim-witted knock out who followed everything that Heather said. Lindsay wasn't the smartest girl, Bridgette has had a few classes with her, but she always ended up passing in the end. The blonde was applying another coat of slick lip-gloss as boys got a scope into her shirt.

Not that she noticed.

 _Damn perverts._ Bridgette scowls before glancing to the clock.

"You're up next sweetheart." The guidance secretary smiles sweetly, and Bridgette returns the gesture before going up to the gray counter and explaining her situation. The secretary nods. "Name and Grade?"

"Bridgette Mathews, 11th grade." The lady nods and does some typing and a few clicks on the computer.

"Okay, here you go Ms. Mathews. Here is your temporary ID, schedule, and trial parking pass."

"Wow, thanks."

"And make sure by the end of this week you get a permanent ID cards—the school now uses it as some sort of credit card—I don't know I'm an old one." She chuckles as Bridgette does too. "It's all in the packet. You can get your picture taken in the library anytime after or before school and during lunch. Have a nice day deary."

"Thank you so much. You too!" Bridgette cheers leaving the crowded office, and scans her schedule. Homeroom she had AP Marine Science. She pumps her fist but then groans when she sees she has Spanish 2. "God dammit." When Bridgette visited Europe she was having a hard time getting around due to her lack of Spanish, and other languages. She relied on a translator and a few guides. But since she needed two language classes to pass, she needed to get this credit.

Leaving the office, she spots her best friends, Leshawna and Courtney. She trots over to them.

"Bridgette!" Courtney cheers hugging the girl as Leshawna joins in.

"Court! Leshawna! I missed you guys so much!"

"I missed you too, white girl." Leshawna replies earning a laugh from the blonde.

"So how was Europe?" Courtney asked excitedly. Bridgette sighs blissfully.

"It was simply _amazing._ It was like, I had to walk around places but it was so beautiful I didn't care." she gushes as her friends try to picture it.

"And the boys? Leshawna asks, wiggling her eyebrows. Bridgette nods.

"Perfectly perfect." She tells her. "Oh! Let's compare schedules." They all move to the side and get their schedules out.

"Well, Bridge and I have Finances together." Courtney chimes.

"Oh man, I'm going to suck at that class." The blonde moans. Leshawna squeaks.

"And we all have gym together! Last period, that's perfect. I am not trying to get all sweaty and musty and be in another class." The black girl says honestly.

"I know, right. That would be horrible. And what lunch do you guys have?" They look in the corner of their schedules.

"I have B lunch." The brunette tells her friends.

"Me too." Leshawna says, Bridgette kisses her teeth.

"Damn, I have A lunch." They give her a sad look. They always had lunch together. The blonde quickly grins. "But that's okay. Because we all have child development together." They get excited again. The first bell rings. "Well, that's our cue. Good luck, guys."

"You too babe." Leshawna calls over her shoulder as they all part.

"Bye! See you guys in CD!" Courtney says shuffling, as the hallways slowly become less crowded. Bridgette can't help but giggle at the freshmen that are lost and running to find their class. She remembers when she was in their shoes, and is glad she no longer is. She puts her temporary ID and parking pass in her wallet and folds her schedule up and puts it in the front zip of her bag.

Her first class was AP Marine Bio which was in the A hall. She makes her way down the chilly hallway and into the class, looking at the seating chart by the door.

"Ah look guys, a blonde tall one." Someone tries to flirt, she rolls her eyes at Cody, a sophmore who got into this class because he was mad smart. And very obnoxious. She sits in a row that only has one other person in it and gets her notebook and pens ready. She tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear and begins setting up the table of contents the teacher has on the over head. Students are still filing in and soon the class is almost full. Next to Bridgette, DJ Bricks sits. She smiles at him.

"Hey DJ! I didn't know you took up this class!" she says, glad she has someone to talk to. The black teen greets her back and gives her a fist bump.

"Oh yeah. I wanted at least one AP class. Plus I love animals so I was like, why not." She laughs as they make small talk. DJ was like a gentle giant. He was 6 feet tall, muscular, and on the baseball team. He also did dance classes and loved animals, and he was an _amazing_ cook. "So Courtney told me you went to Europe." He says.

"Oh yeah, it was amazing. You would've loved the food there." He nods.

"Yeah, over the summer I went to a 3 week culinary camp. It was pretty cool and I met some neat people." He tells her. He throws on his green hoody since it was a bit cold in the class.

"Neat, neat." The tardy bell rings and the teacher closes the door and makes his way up to the front of the class.

"Silence, please! My name is Donald Hannigan! I am passing you the roll. Please sign your name and pass it to the person behind you. After that, I will assign you numbers. These are more important than even your names on assignments. It's how I will keep track of you. Zoey is handing out the syllabus." He says in an intimidating voice.

"Yikes." DJ mutters.

"As you can see, this is an AP class. If you came for any other class, _get out_ because you're in the wrong room." Some students chuckle at this. "I will treat you like adults as long as you act like adults. I have _few_ rules." He drones on, leaning over the desk and adjusting the paper on the overhead. "Follow with me on the syllabus, please." Bridgette scans over the rules. They were simple and easy to follow.

 _1) No cell phones or MP3 players, unless there is an emergency_

 _2) No foods or drinks except water or organic snacks_

 _3) Raise your hand to be recognized. Call outs will result in point deduction_

 _4) Clean up after yourself_

The rest, the blonde didn't care to read. That wasn't _a few_ to her. She glimpses around the class room. There were empty tanks in the back, a few lab stations in the corner. There was a teacher's office to the side. The counters that went all around the room were neatly organized. At the front of the room there was a long, counter that served as a desk and demonstration counter. On the coutner was an overhead, which the teacher was using. The blonde puts the syllabus in her general purpose binder as other students do and signs her name on the roll after the girl in front passes it to her.

The door creaks open and everyone looks.

The awkward girl from the guidance office walks in, red-faced. The boys in the front where Cody is sitting laugh titter quietly as Bridgette gives them a look.

"You're late." Mr. Hannigan chimes, as if she wasn't humilated already. DJ and Bridgette share a look, as if feeling her pain.

"I'm sorry. I couldn't find it. I'm new here." She says quietly.

" _Poor girl."_ Bridgette whispers.

" No excuses. Take a seat behind Bridgette Mathews." Bridgette raises her hand for the girl to see and smiles at her as she just blushes again and looks down. The blonde can't help but notice her poor posture and how she looks at the ground. She wears loose fitting pink shorts and a light green v-neck. She was short and stocky, and her medium length brown hair was back in a neat ponytail. She has on black square glasses over her face. After the teacher turns his attention to someone at the door, Bridge turns around.

"Hi, I'm Bridgette. What's your name?" the girl looks like she might just stop breathing. She takes a deep breath—she had perfectly straight teeth.

"Beth. Beth Allison." She says calmly and carefully, like she might mess up her own name.

"Cool. Don't worry about those idiots up there. They're dumb as hell." DJ reassures her as Beth finally smiles a bit. "I'm DJ. Are you a sophmore?"

"Junior." Both teens look surprised. "I know. I'm pathetic." She sighs. Bridgette shakes her head.

"No it's just—I don't know." Bridgette says awkwardly. "Beth, we're going to be good friends." The small brunette smiles at this before looking back at her notebook.


	3. 3- Trent

**IN THESE HALLS**

 **By Simsgal**

 **Disclaimer:** **I do not own Total Drama ;)**

 **Chapter Three- Trent**

"Shit." The black-haired teen mutters when he realizes he was late for his first day of school. He looks to his nightstand to see if his alarm clock was there. It was gone and he swears once again before getting up and stretching. He goes down the hall to his little sister's room, which is too pink for his liking.

"Molly did you take my alarm clock?" the girl is currently brushing her dark hair and looks at him from her mirror.

"Shouldn't you be at school already?"She asks haughtily before putting some clips in it to hold her bangs back. She then searches through her drawers.

"Well, I would've woken up on time if I had my damn alarm clock." He grumbles. She sighs and pulls out some black leggings and throws them onto the bed.

"Well I don't have it, go check Bruiser's bed, he _always_ takes mom and dad's alarm clock." She snaps. She pulls a blouse out of her closet.

"That shirt is ugly." He remarks before leaving quickly, before she can throw anything at him.

"Get out!" she then slams the door. Molly was 13, obnoxious, and played her various boy bands too loud for Trent's taste; it was her first day of the 8th grade. Trent groans, knowning next year she'll be at the school with him.

"Does god hate me?" he asks inwardly while going to the dog's bed, which was behind the couch in the living room. Their Labrordor-Husky mix perks up after he sees Trent and his tail begins thumping energetically. Trent grins, revealing a dimple and shakes his head at the furry ball of energy. "No, no playing." He scolds. The dog just barks in response. "Where is my alarm clock?" the dog glances to the bed then trots off, through the doggy door and into the backyard. To the teen's relief, the clock was resting in the corner of the plush bed, and not somewhere in the back under some dirt. He groans and picks it up, and then wipes the dog slobber off of it. He goes back to his room to find something to wear. Molly is already playing her loud Justin Bieber and Trent hits the bathroom wall.

"STOP HITTING THE WALL, YOU TOOL!" he gives the wall a glare and she is on the other side of the wall giving him one too, both with their matching green eyes. Their parents were already at work, and Trent was going to drive to school and Molly was going to ride the bus. But, knowing his demanding sister, she would probably get him to drive her. Another 30 minutes of Justin blaring through his car speakers.

Trent pulls a plain dark green t-shirt from his drawer and fitted black jeans from his closet. He slips on his shoes and then musses up his hair so it looks the _good kind_ of messy. He puts his watch on and then deodorant. He grabs his one-strap bag off of his desk chair and goes into the kitchen as his sister finishes up showering. He makes them both some toast, and puts more food in Bruiser's bowl.

This morning was already going stale for Trent. The people at his school annoyed him, except for his friends, and his crush, Gwen Garrett. He did make okay grades, A's and B's, and was on the swim team. He didn't know who would be in any of his classes, so that also annoyed him.

But then, he thought of Gwen's perfectly-complexioned ivory face, and her dark hair, short and smiles. She was so different and so cool—and she had good music taste. She may look like the typical goth-screamo girl but she also liked cool indie and soft rock. He thought everything about her was well, perfect. He hopes he wasn't blushing and puts the orange juice back into the fridge.

"Molly! Breakfast!" Molly comes down the hall in her outfit and with her purse.

"Where's the backpack mom bought you?" he asks as she smirks.

"Wow, Trent. Everybody knows that no one carries backpacks anymore. It's all about using a purse as your bag." She tells him like she knows everything.

"You are such a spoiled brat." He jeers as she rolls her eyes. "Are you even allowed to wear those pants?" he didn't even care, he just liked to annoy his younger sister.

"Who cares? It's not like they can dresscode me the first week—I can say I didn't know." She say checking her face in a compact.

"Wow." Is all he says before taking a bite into his toast. His school didn't have a dresscode and he loved rubbing it in her little face.

"So are you driving me to school?" Molly asks before giving him a sickly-sweet look. He fake gags. "Trent come on! I can't ride the bus on my first day! That is so lame." She begs. He shugs.

"Whatever—but we listen to _my_ music. No _One Second of Direction_ or whatever." She gives him a look that could kill. He messed the name up on purpose.

"Your music is gross." She says simply. They finish their quick meal, say goodbye to the dog and go out front to Trent's truck. He immediately plays some of his favorite songs softly. They begin driving silently and Molly cackles. "What the _hell_ is this?" She questions holding up a small plastic CD holder. " _Gwen's Mix?"_ she laughs more as he snatches it away.

"It's just a few things I put together for her. No big deal." He defends himself and puts it in the backseat.

"Just admit, you like weird goth chick." She teases. He turns light pink.

"W-whatever. It's just a CD." He says quickly.

"You never make music for DJ or Dawn or Mike." She giggles as he groans loudly and childishly.

"Shut up. I don't want to hear it from you. I'm going to drop you off at the little kid school and then leave, okay?" she teases him more.

" _Oh Gwen, I made you this CD, it's filled with the hottest indie hits and all of my love for you!"_ she mocks his voice. " _Oh Gwenny, would you like to be Mrs. Gwen Watson?"_

"I will punch the braces out of your mouth." She then stifles her laughter and puts her feet on the dash. "And I know how you have a crush on that blonde Sherfrew kid." He yells as she gets out of the car so she can get to class. She turns a bright shade of fuschia.

"S-shut up, Trent! I do not!" he speeds off as she enters the buidling. High school started almost an hour ago. It was now 7:49 and he was supposed to be there at 7:05. Groaning at the hell he was going to get from whatever teacher he had, he makes his way to school. He peers at Gwen's CD in the back and smiles briefly.

 _I hope she likes. It. She'll love it; I know she will._ He thinks before entering the parking lot. Luckily, the middle school was only about 10 minutes from the senior high. He puts his pre-bought parking pass in his windshield and then grabs his bag from the back, leaving the CD on the seat for when he drives Gwen home later. He jogs into the building, and the cool air conditioing greets him, causing Trent to rub his arms and go to the Upper Grade dean's office. The school had 4: An Upper Class dean that was for 11th and 12th graders, one for boys and one for girls, and a lower class dean that also had one for boys and one for girls; for 9th and 10th graders.

He walks into the office, scowling at the ugly dark green tile, and waits at the desk. The school colors were white and hunter green and it didn't look to well with the new flooring. The blonde secretary glares at him over her glasses. He just waves and gives her a smart look.

"Watson, huh? Late on the first day?" she shakes her head and says the inevitable. "Just like Mason." She whispers as he clenches his fist but releases it. She types him up a tardy pass and hands it to him harshly.

"Wow, thanks." He simpers sarcastically.

"I know how you Watson boys are." He sighs again. "I'll be keeping my eye on you." She tells him before he shuffles out.

Trent hated being compared to his horrible older brother Mason. He was a deadbeat and barely came to school, but when he did all the troublemaker did was start pure shit. He graduated two years before, and any teacher who has been there longer than that knows of his notorious ways. One look at Trent, who looked like an exact replica of his older brother, and they felt like they knew what to expect, and that pissed the teen boy off so much. Sometimes they would be calling roll, say his last name, scowl, and then mark Trent present.

 _It's not my fault he is the way he is…_ Trent sighs. He refused to let Mason ruin his day and pulls out his folded schedule. He heads to Chemisty since homeroom only had a few minutes left.

He goes ahead and stops at his locker and places some of his things in, adjusting it neatly and placing some emergency cash in the back. His father always told him to be prepared. It was only 25 dollars, but that could help if something ever went wrong. The black haired boy then starts walking to his science class. The bell rings when he is halfway there and school chatter once again fills the long, echoing halls. Trent checks out girls as they walk by in their first-day outfits and greets some people he walks by.

Then he sees her.

Gwen has her earbuds in, and is walking down the hall, dark eyes staring straight ahead so she can get to her next class. Her make up is done lightly except for her dark blue lipstick, which is perfectly in place. Her dark, wavy bob is bouncing slightly, and jet black with one blue streak, a good contrast with her pale, even skin. Trent wants to call out to her, but he instead keeps walking since she probably wouldn't hear him anyway. That girl listens to her music _loud._ Even if she wasn't listening to music, the hallway was so loud with after-summer chatter she wouldn't even notice him.

But he noticed her.

Trent sits at the stool marked on the seating chart. He had chemisty, science wasn't one of his strongest subjects but he managed. He texts DJ and Mike that he was late and they reply, teasing him and he smiles at his friends. They hung out all summer, and when DJ went to culinary camp Mike and Trent stayed tight. He puts his smartphone back in his backpack as the 1-minute bell rings and a few students laugh along with him as you hear some of the people still in the hall running, their shoes sqeaking. He is fine with who was in this class, but he wishes some of his friends had it, and especially a certain Goth. Alejandro, a pretty stuck up kid was here, he was honestly a jerk but somehow everyone liked him. He was a good athlete though, and was on the baseball and football team. Noah, a cynical and sarcastic book worm who was actually super witty and funny, and gave Trent a good laugh. Leshawna was also in this class. He waves to her as she walks over and he hugs her.

"Hey, Trent. Looking all cute and stuff. I see you." She jokes as he nudges her.

"You too, sweet thing." He mocks.

"Corny," she replies before snickering and going back to her stool. Trent is one of the only few without someone next to him. He forgot to check who his lab partner was.

"Open the door!" A snotty voice rings. The teacher rolls her eyes and wheels over, opening the door. Heather Zhan in her tall, slender glory walks in and flips her raven hair. Some of the girls groan while some of the guys whistle and talk amongst each other. Trent himself is mesmerized by her long legs that are revealed in her khaki-shorts—and a navel piercing of a dragon that peeks out from a burgundy halter.

"Woah." He whispers. He knew Heather was hot, but he always forgot until he saw her again. Loving the attention she scowls at Leshawna who rolls her eyes back and takes a seat next to the black haired boy. Trent inwardly swears at this. Heather was also known as a major bitch, so he knows he wouldn't hear the end of it if they were partners.

"Hey Heath-" she slams her pink binder onto the table and sits on the stool.

"Look, keep your mouth shut and do what I say whenever. I didn't sign up to get stuck with some weird indie-slacker." She hisses as he puts his hands in defense.

"Jeez. I've known you since the fifth grade and this is how you treat me?"

"Why are you even talking to me?" she snaps before signing her name on the roll with her neat and girly handwriting. She slides it over to Trent roughly then flips her long tresses once again, so they flow over her back and down to her revealed waist. Trent gulps and then looks ahead to whatever the teacher is talking about.

He was so glad Gwen was nice.

The teacher wheels to the front and supports herself at the desk.

"I bet you guys are wondering why your teacher is in a wheelchair."

"Don't care." Heather mutters while putting on chapstick.

"Let's just say I had a damn good time during summer vacation. I should be up and moving in a few weeks." The class laughs, inculding Trent as the Asian girl rolls her eyes to the ceiling. "Take a syllabus and pass the rest. This lists all of the supplies, all of the assignments, and all of the labs we will be doing. On the back of the syllabus is the lab-safety contract. All that stuff they make you read that you get every year about broken glass, clothing, hair—FYI ladies, we will be working with flame." She says cautiously. Some of the girls gasp and then flip over the syllabus to read the contract. Trent likes this teacher.


	4. 4- Heather

**Oh Great,** _ **Another**_ **High School Fic**

 **By Simsgal**

 **Disclaimer:** **I do not own Total Drama ;)**

 **Chapter Four- Heather**

Heather sits in her chemistry class, bored out of her raven-haired head. She looks at her long, feminine finger nails graced upon equally long and feminine slim hands. Her french manicure was fresh and her tips were bright white, matching her perfect and smug smiles.

 _There are absolute losers in this dumb class. But I need this credit to pass._ She thinks, scowling at the overhead projecter as the teacher goes over the syllabus. She was good at science. In fact, Heather Elise Zhan was good at almost everything, a skill she inherited from her "picture-perfect" parents who ruled in business and stocks, something the high-strung teen cared nothing about. She also inherited their " _caste" system_ attitude. There were some who just naturally rose to the top, and there were those who simply stayed at the bottom. Heather simply referred to them as losers. She was at the top.

Always.

She made sure it stayed that way by having the dirt on everyone, being decietful, and getting what she wanted. Everyone at J.D.W. Senior High was under her thumb. Sure, they weren't admirable traits but they kept her where she wanted to be: in charge at all times.

Every leader had their followers. Heather only associated herself with pretty girls to boss around, but usually they were idiots or had low self-esteem so they were easy to manipulate; not that it took much in the first place. One compliment to a girl or one hair flip and twirl to a boy got them listening and eager. Heather's main follower, and dare she say friend, was dim-witted Lindsay Sherfrew. The girls had met in junior high and everything had changed. All Lindsay wanted was popularity and attention, and hanging with Heather she got it. She would also do _anything_ Heather said. As long as she stayed at the top with with her raven-haired companion, all was good in her book.

And, Heather wouldn't tell, but she also helped the girl in a few subjects she was struggling in. Idiots disgusted her and there was only so much she could take.

"So I guess we're lab partners." Trent says, only slightly thrown off from when Heather snapped at him. She rubs her temples lightly. _Why is he freaking talking to me?_

"Didn't you catch the hint? I don't want to hear your voice." She growls. Trent gives her a smug look. "And we better _get all A's_ this year. One B, even _one_ , and I'll do the worst thing you could possibly imagine to you." She whispers, before another infamous hair flip.

"Could you stop flipping your damn hair? All that wind is spreading your dandruff around sister." Leshawna remarks from behind as Trent holds in a snicker.

"At least mine is real, _sister."_ Leshawna mutters some threatening things but Heather doesn't mind her at all. In fact, she loved that she got the black girl's blood boiling. And boy, she did.

"So the first assignment we're going to do is binder set up." The class collectively groans, including Heather. She neatly opens her binder and pulls a fresh pen from her zip-pouch and scowls at Trent who searches around in his bag for something to write with. _Who the hell doesn't come to school with their supplies on the first damn day?_ She thinks haughtily before becoming annoyed by his shuffling. _Are you fucking kidding me?_ She huffs and slams an ink pen on the counter for Trent. He smiles and spins it in his hand.

"Wow, thanks Heather."

"Don't talk to me." She hits him in the face with her tresses and pays attention to the board as Trent just shakes his head in an amused manner.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXxxxxXXXXX

"Heather! Heather! Sorry I'm late, I was like, looking all over for your locker!" the blonde Lindsay says, panting. Heather rolls her dark slate-colored eyes discreetly and then slams her locker shut harshly and loudly, but no one reacts because it's happening everywhere in the hall because people are shuffling to get to either A lunch, or their next class.

"I told you it was in the 300's hall. Where the hell did you look?" Lindsay smacks her forehead.

"Ow. That like, hurt!"

"Oh my god." Heather mutters under her breath before plastering a smile on her face. "Anyway, aren't you glad we have gym together, Linds?!" Lindsay nods furiously and flips her lengthy blonde hair over her bony shoulder.

"Yeah, yeah totally! We can totally check out hot guys." She gushes as the two make their way to the locker room, which wasn't too far. Lindsay is blabbing stuff that Heather doesn't care about so she doesn't listen. She just nods, fake laughs, and says 'wow, really?' every now and then. Once they get into the fragrant locker room, Heather and Lindsay go to their adjacent gym lockers and dress out. The gym uniform consisted of dark green, knee-length shorts and a grey t-shirt, but of course Heather had to sex-ify hers. Her shorts were much shorter than everyone elses so her ivory stalks were proudly revealed, and t-shirt was slightly cropped so a few inches of her toned stomach was on display. Lindsay wore a tank top that greatly showed off her— _endowments;_ and in contrast to Heather's shorts, dark green leggings that hugged her small but fit figure. They go to the gym and stand in roll call. Boys are not even hiding the fact they are oggling the two beautiful girls. Heather notices, Lindsay does not and she just toys with the ends of her hair. "Ew, gross, I have a split end like, right here." Heather yanks it out, and a few other strands. Lindsay cringes.

"There. Now it's gone."

"Wow, thanks Heaths. You're so smart."

"I know."

"OKAY EVERYONE! 3 LAPS THEN CHECK IN!" The girls groan while the athletic muscle heads cheer and grab the footballs and basketballs from the closet.

"I am not running." Heather smugly remarks as they go out, and the sun is out but there is an invigorating breeze.

"Yeah like, sweating is gross. Right Heather?" Heather smiles at how Lindsay always needs her approval and praise. _Like a little pet._ She thinks.

"Yeah. So gross." They walk the track, and when they pass the other coach checking laps they barely make an effort to jog, just like most of the other girls. Most of the boys are trying to show out, but Heather just thinks they look stupid. She trips a guy running backwards to catch a football and snickers when he lands into the coach. "Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry. Klutz." She says in a fake, innocent voice. The horomone crazed boy takes one look at her toned legs and smirks.

"It's no problem, pretty girl. How about later we-"

"No." Heather cuts him off, walking away.

"Byeee!" Lindsay calls to the boy, before following her leader. The two girls stand under the shade of a tree where lots of other girls are. They're all ugly to Heather so she doesn't talk to them.

"Lindsay, we need more influence." Heather remarks as if it's some master plan to overthrow a monarch, and not just highschool.

"I don't know. One time my little brother had that and was vomiting like, everywhere. It was so gross because he threw up in my Baby Prada bag and I cried for a week." _How can someone be this stupid? How?_ Heather just strains a smile.

"No I mean, more friends for us."

"Oooh. What about those girls?" Heather gags.

"No. I meant pretty girls."

"Ooooh." Lindsay was looking around. She points to herself.

"Sweetie, you're _already_ my friend." Heather really isn't lying. Lindsay… was sort of the only friend she had. The blue-eyed girl childishly claps.

"Oh my gosh Heather, that means like, _so_ much." She clutches her chest as if Heather wrote her poem or something.

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever." Suddenly a soccer ball rolls torwards both girls. Lindsay screams and Heather gets ready to scowl at whoever was sucky enough to get it this far. Just as she was about to criticize their game-playing, she almost stops breathing when she sees his face. _What the hell is this?_ She wonders as she tries to regain her pompus composure. She places a hand on her hip.

" _Ay,_ I am sorry _mija_. I hope the ball did not graze and ruin your beauty." He says in a sweetly deep, smooth accent that is rich in evidence of a Hispanic background. Heather just scowls.

"Whatever. Just stop sucking and try to get it in the goal. It's not that hard." She reprimands. What _was_ hard was trying to keep from staring at this beautiful boy. He had piercing green eyes, tan skin and a fit build, most likely from sports. He had long, neat hair that occasioanly got into his eyes and just the right amount of facial hair. It seemed as if hid gym shirt could barely contain his biceps. _I know this guy._

"A fiesty one. _Me gusta mucho. Tu es bonitismo_." Lindsay shakes her head.

"Sorry, I'm on a diet. I can't eat Taco Bell." Heather shakes her head.

"Excuse her."

"Oh, I will." He grins before running off with the ball. "I'm Alejandro, by the way!" her yells behind him. Heather looks at her manicure like it's interesting.

"I already know and I don't care." she says in her normal voice.

" _BYE ALLIGATO!"_ Lindsay waves. "OMG Heather. He was totally cute."

"Whatever."

XXXXXXXXXxxxxx

"Hi baby." Heather's mother smiles from a bar stool in front of the counter island. Heather grins and kisses her mother's cheek. Many people would not believe that Heather had a close relationship with her parents; _well, only her mother._ But, most thought she was obnoxious and bratty at home. They also thought she was a bitch constantly, had millions of servants, and parents who weren't in her life so she acted up.

None of this was true. Heather loved her mother to the end of the earth and back. Her father?

Not so much. She could be difficult at times because she was spoiled rotten, but what was expected? They were filthy rich and she was raised this way by them. She always told them it was their fault.

"Hi mommy. How was your day?" she asks, getting a lemonade and then leaning over the counter.

"Good. I sold some more houses today. How was dance?" An actual, genuine smile beams across the ebony-haired girl's face.

"It was so great mom. The fall recital is going to be so amazing." She sighs excitedly. "You and dad are coming, right?" she asks expectantly. Her mother nods.

"Wouldn't miss it for the world. Go shower, we're going out for dinner once your father gets home." Heather nods weakly. All she really wanted to do was sleep. She trots up the marble stairs and goes down the lengthy hall to her room, glancing out of the 2-story window that went from the floor all the way up to the high ceiling. Once she reaches the lengthy, white door, she opens it and enters her sanctuary. She immediately goes to her bathroom and strips of her slightly sweaty dance leotard. She releases her tresses from its captive topknot and starts a scalding hot shower. As the shower heats, she looks at herself in the mirror. She smirks at the reflection.

"People envy this. People envy you." She grins wickedly. "I will forever reign. God. I love being on top." She sighs contently before getting into the shower and washing away the day's grime and tire.

XXXxxxXXX


	5. 5- Cody

**Oh Great,** _ **Another**_ **High School Fic**

 **By Simsgal**

 **Disclaimer:** **I do not own Total Drama ;)**

 **Chapter Five- Cody**

Cody hated his job so much. He dreaded going there, and as soon as he left he didn't think about it for as long as possible.

None of the boy's friends knew _why_ he even had a job. Cody's parents were loaded. Only a select group knew that, because Cody didn't want everyone to treat him differently because of that (even though they would probably still shove him into the wall and toss his bag around). His friends that did know relentlessly bugged him about it.

 _Cody quit your job._

 _Cody, why the hell do you even work?_

They would all queery as he just shrugged.

" _I don't know. I guess I have a driven work ethic, or something."_ He would tell them simply. At his house, he adjusts his dark red tie and makes sure his black pants are creased correctly. His hair is still slightly messy, something that never changed about him. His teal toned eyes were bright and chipper, not matching his attitude towards work at all. He actually felt like just staying home and risk getting a pay-cut or fired.

But, as usual, he pasted a smile onto his face- he didn't have many blemishes or acne—and his diastema was revealed to his reflection. He didn't bother getting braces to fix it, because he, and many others believed it added character. Other than his small gap, his other teeth were in order, and shined white due to his parent's many dental obsessions. Tidying up his room a bit, he looked at his smartphone for the time before deciding to head to work at _Ignacio_ _Tamal's,_ a high end Mexican resturant at the towncenter. He puts on his shades before going down stairs, swiping his keys off of the counter. His mother stops him.

"Sweetheart, where are you going?" she calls in a sickly sweet voice. Cody rolls his eyes behind his aviators before stopping.

"Work, mom." He says this everytime. She stands up, towering over him by a good 4 or 5 inches; and pokes and prods at him—adjusting his tie, straightening his black work shirt, and Cody just about loses it when she licks her thumb and runs it over one of his eyebrows. "Mom, mom, okay. I'm fine." She clutches her chest.

"Baby you don't have to work. You can stay home with me." She cooes, a very overprotective glint in her eye. The brunette notices it and and shakes his head quickly.

"N-nah. I'm good mom. Gotta go." He tells her, squriming away and leaving his mom in the foyer. Sighing, the teenage boy climbs into his modest and humble (but new) Audi. He turns the stereo up high, with a radio app playing on his phone through the AUX cord. He releases a deep breath he didn't know he was holding. He hated when his parents, especially his mom, babied him. He was 17 for gods sakes!

And sure, he didn't look it, he was only 5'4 and was slightly childish looking, but he was very mature and wanted his parents to notice that. He knew one day he would get taller, his father was 6'1 and his mother was 5'8. Every day he would check the mirror to see if any inches added on.

None since freshman year, though.

Cody didn't let his boyish appearance get the best of him, and instead bobbed his chin lightly to his music, and then re-adjusting his review mirror at the light. His friends always said how he should get a better car. His parents were stinking rich, and he drove an Audi. He liked it. He didn't want some flashy thing, he preffered more simple and modest things. His car wasn't the type that people _Ooh'd_ and _Aah'd_ at when he pulled up (Unlike Heather Zhan's red _Corvette_ and Dakota Millen's black _Jaguar_ ).

And he was fine with that.

Xxxx

At work, he clocks in and greets fellow coworkers before tying his waiter's apron and grabbing his notepad. He checks his tables for the day and groans discreetly before falsely smiling at his boss. He washes his hands before going to his first table, which has a family of 4. He smiles at them and follows routine, which was handing them coasters and telling them about the specials. The young girl, who is maybe 12, is hiding behind her menu.

"Yes I'll have the grilled pepper chicken, and she will have-"

"Mom I can order for myself." The young girl snaps as Cody just grins.

 _I know the feeling, kid_. He thinks before pressing his pen to the writing pad.

"The miniature steak tacos please." She nervously stutters. Cody smiles at this and takes the two remaining orders. After giving them dessert menus he heads back to the kitchen, smaile vanished, to put in the order. On thw way he runs into his co-worker who is also a good friend.

"Yo, Cody." Dave greets him. A real smile erupts on his face as he does a guy-ish handshake, and also snickers at a smart ass comment someone made behind him about a table they were waiting.

"Dave, my bro. I'm so glad you're here. I need you to take this to the chef while I go cover more ground, I have 3000 tables." Dave sighs and grips the paper with two fingers, he was a germ freak.

"I feel you." Cody's fake smile is back onto his face as he goes to his next table—and he almost chokes.

 _Heather Zhan._

He regains his composure but barely, as the teen girl doesn't even notice him. She is too busy scanning the menu, biting her lip, and that alone made the brunettes heartbeat increase. Her parents were also scanning the menu, her father was austere and her mother looked jovial yet serious. Heather looked slightly miserable. He remembers what he was even there for.

"Hello, welcome to Ignacio Tamal's, I'm Cody and I will be serving you today. Can I start you off with drinks or appetizers?" he asks, thinking before each word rolls off of his tongue. His father clears his throat.

"I will have a water, and the traditional Tamal's steak, please. Heather, sit up straight." He reprimands her. The asian girl barely improves her posture. Her mother sighs at her daughter but then grins at her waiter.

"I will have a water with lemon, and the jalapeno pepper autumn salad." She smiles sweetly. Cody's eyes are now fully on Heather, as they usually are when she is in the room. He notices how she looks completely bored.

"And for you, ma'am?" he asks, somewhat hoping maybe she'll recognize him. _Of course she won't Cody. You're a loser. She's the most popular girl in school._ He tells himself.

"I'll take a coke,"

"Heather." Her father scolds her. She subtly rolls her eyes, causing the teal eyed boy to simper.

"Sorry. A _diet_ coke." Her father just glowers. "And the chicken cheese salad, please." She tells him. He writes it all down before nodding and confirimg orders, and then walking away to put the order in. His heart was thumping and he was relieved.

Meanwhile, Heather's parents get up to go select drinks at the bar. She rolls her eyes at this and sits at the table, alone, flipping through the dessert book. When she sees the short boy walk by, something clicks in her head.

 _He goes to my school._

Her face stays monotone, though. She decides she is through being bored and puts a smile on her face.

"Um, excuse me?"she calls after Cody, who freezes in his tracks and turns around, approaching her booth.

"Yes?" she clears her throat and looks directly into his eyes.

"I was wondering, what's the difference between drizzled and the swirled chocolate?" she asks. He clears his throat.

"W-well, the drizzled his more delicate, I guess, while the swirled is more intense. Both are p-pretty good." He tries to say calmly, but the queen bee's gaze alone was making him so nervous.

"Great." The way it rolls off her tongue makes him shiver subtly. "That's all." She whispers before he walks away. Cody can't believe he actually talked him. Well. It didn't really count, but to the computer geek it really did. Girls rarely talked to him ever. Especially girls as pretty as Heather Zhan. "Thanks, _Cody."_

"You're welcome." He squeaks out behind his shoulder. Did his pants just get tighter?

Heather grins at his reaction and is no longer bored with the night. Her parents even got her a virgin daquiri, which she claps at gleefully and they shake their heads out how childish their daughter was—but they loved her.

Xxxx

When Cody is clocking out, all he can think of is Heather. He shakes his head then goes to his car, laughing at a joke one of his co-workers yelled out about some lady's weight. He turns on his phone and checks his messages. Noah sent him some rants about whatever, and Cameron sent him gaming stats from their session that afternoon from _Major Warcraft_ , an online MMORPG he loved. It was only 9, so he had time to get home and get in a couple hours of gaming. Grinning, he gets home as quick as possible. As soon as he walks in the door he slides his keys onto the granite and his mom calls to him.

"Cody! Oh you're home!" she cheers. His father looks away from his computer in the home office.

"Ah, son. How was that job of yours?" Cody shrugs, just wanting to get upstairs.

"Fine. Made some nice tips." He says quickly before dashing upstairs. He immediately ditches the work clothes on his floor, and instead wears sleeping pants and a t-shirt. He logs onto his computer and waits for his friends to see. He turns on his headset and is greeted by numerous friends.

"Codester, finally!" Tyler chants from his home computer.

"Cody, Sam has been kicking our ass, man. Where have you been?" Ezekiel complains.

"Work. Now let's show Sam what we got." Cody's character was decked out in different guns and vests. His ranking was a 30, which was quite high, especially in his group. Sam Worchester went to a rival school and his level was a 31. He was the ultimate gamer and beat Cody every time.

 _Not today, Sam. I will destroy you and send you crying back to your headquaters._

In the game, there were different time periods ranging from the samurai times with swords to the colonial wars with heavy artillery, and even western saloon fights. The cool part was, is you could keep sheilds, weapons, and protection from each time period, so your cowboy could have a katana (like Cody's character), or your British soldier could have a spear and arrow (like Sam's). Each time period increased in difficulty, and Cody has mastered all except for the Revolutionary War segments. Sam _has_ , and uses it to trash talk Cody.

"Oh hoh, look guys, Mody decided to log on so we can embarrass him again." Sam chants from over his headset. Cody rolls his eyes.

"Oh whatever Sam. We know the only reason your character is decked out from all segments is because you used GameSpark codes. Total hacker- admit it. How else would you have level 40 _blue red blue_ sequence on your samurai sash?" Cody taunts—realizing his mistake but it's too late.

"Guess what, dumb-ecile, it's actually a _shogun_ sash with a _violet orange violet_ sequence from beating the optional and after game boss _Timecracker_ in the premedz track. He only appears for certain hours—but of course your're probably in bed by then, since you have a bed time, loser." Sam chants as his friends _ooh._ Cody rolls his eyes at his rival's lame attempts.

"Yeah, in bed with your mom." Cody grins as his friends also laugh. Cody was going to have a long night.

xxx


	6. 6- Duncan

**In These Halls**

 **By Simsgal**

 **Disclaimer:** **I do not own Total Drama ;)**

 **Chapter Six- Duncan**

Sighing deeply, the mohawked teen inhales another rope of smoke before leaning against the hard brick wall and shaking his head. There was a slight drizzle, common for his town, but he had no intentions of going home or in fact, seeking any shelter.

"Why weren't you at school today?" His sea-blues glance lightly over to the girl who walked up to him. Zoey. He shrugs.

"Didn't feel like going." He states simply before swallowing and then inhaling more smoke.

"That stuff can kill you." She says pointing to the cigarette.

"Yeah, so can the government." He mutters as the redhead cocks her head to the side. He shakes his head and puts the cigarette out, earning a smile from the girl.

"Today was my first day of high school, you know." She says. "And you weren't there." Duncan winces a bit.

"S-something came up." He lies quickly. Zoey Yeltz looks like he doesn't believe him one bit.

"You promised." She whispers. He pulls off his zip-up hoodie and drapes it over the smaller girl's shoulders.

"It would've been the same with or without me." He remarks. "Do your parents know you're here?" he asks, somewhat caring. This girl, Zoey, was maybe one of the few people he gave a damn about anymore. The only other person was taken away from him so he no longer trusted his feelings with people. But, this little 5'3 girl was enough to make his heart open up a teeny bit. It wasn't romantic, at all. Just looking at her gave him this instinct.

But he wouldn't tell her that.

"They don't care." she huffs. "They're at dinner." His eyes widen with anger. "I walked here from school. I knew you would be here." Zoey says simply. It was true, Duncan often hung out behind the Indie music shop run by his good friend, Euro. He cleared his mind there as best as possible before starting his shift sometimes.

"I'm taking you home." And they begin the walk to Zoey and Duncan's neighborhood.

xxXX

"Duncan John Anaheim do you have any idea what time it is?" his father asks him, livid. Duncan's eyes are half lidded and he doesn't even care about his father's lecture right now, he'd rather be in his room asleep.

"You're the one wearing a watch." He dryly retorts as his father throws his hands up.

"Diane. _Diane!_ " he calls for Duncan's mother, who gives her son an empathetic look. "Look. Look at his eyes, he's high. Duncan have you been smoking cocaine?" Duncan's eyes squint further.

"One, no I'm not high, two you don't _smoke cocaine._ " He says factually.

"Oh sweetie, I told you hanging out with that _Ito_ boy was bad news." His mother says before handing him a towel to dry his wet hair.

"And I got a call from your school today. Where did you go today? Smoking cocaine?" yelling, his father holds up the housephone. _Who even uses housephones anymore?_ Duncan wonders, rolling his eyes.

"I was out." He tells him. "Now can I please go upstairs? I promise I'll go to school tomrrow." He fibs.

"Don't pull that bull with me young man. I'm surprised they even let you pass."

"Harrison." His mother scolds her husband before looking to her son. "Honey go ahead and take a shower. I'll bring your plate to you." Duncan smiles at his mother, who actually cared about him (along with Zoey) and goes up the stairs.

"See that's the problem, you baby the hell out of him." Harrison spats under his breath.

"He's only 17, still young. You know how you were at his age." She rebutals. Sighing in defeat, he suddenly gets a good idea.

"No. You're right."

"I—I am?" Diane Anaheim usually had night-long arguments with her husband over their difficult son. Harrison wanted the best looking family and Laura wanted the best for Duncan.

"Remember ?" he asks, not waiting for an answer. "After that amazing business deal, he told me if I ever needed anything to call him. He even offered to take Duncan then." Mrs. Anaheim looks apalled.

"You're not… actually thinking of sending of our son, _your son_ , to live with some family he doesn't even know, right?" she says more than asks. Duncan's father is already set on the idea; he sits at the table and continues to organize papers.

" _I_ know the Sherfrews. They even have a daughter his age. He needs to be out of his comfort zone. That's why he thinks he is so invincible." He plugs in numbers on his calculator before scrawling them down in his notebook. "Steven will be completely accepting. I talked to him just the other day about vacationing together."

"Harrison. Please." His mind is already set. It was too late for the teen upstairs.

He was on his computer, headphones in, with the music blasting. He notices the poster on the back of his door rattle, meaning his mother knocked. He liked that she knocked, unlike his father who would just barge in.

"Yes, mom?" she steps in gingerly, over the tiny bit of mess in his room (he was a delinquent, not a slob) and places the reheated dinner on his nightstand.

"Oh baby, your father is making some rash decisions." She tells him, rubbing his cheek lightly, which he would usually flinch away from but his eyes are glued to his screen.

"As always. Not new, mom." He says smartly. "What is it this time? I already went to military school." It was true, the Anaheim boy went to military school once before (when he was 14) and they simply couldn't crack him. Her face breaks. " _Catholic school?"_ he gags, actually disgusted by the idea as his mother smiles lightly, but it falters quickly.

"We'll talk about it in the morning. Get some rest. _You_ have school." She says pointing a finger as he waves it off.

"Yeah, yeah." His mother gets off of his bed and begins to leave the room before looking over her shoulder.

"I love you, Duncan." He stays silent, and after the door closes he shuts his computer and reaches for the mashed potatoes and chicken.

"Love you too, mom."

XxXX

"You're going to school." His dad commands, before throwing clothes at the boy from his wardrobe. Duncan, still more than half asleep, covers his eyes as his father opens the blinds, letting harsh sunlight in.

"Dad what the fuck!"

"Watch your mouth, be ready in 10 minutes or I will drag you to that damn school." And with that he slams the door behind him, leaving an agitated teen in his bed, eyes stinging.

" _Fuck. Actual Fuck."_ Duncan groans into his pillow before throwing himself out of bed. Usually, he wouldn't give a damn about school, but he wanted his father to just leave him alone, plus knowing his dad, he would drive him to school, walk him in, and watch him go to class.

After brushing his teeth, he puts on deoderant and a bit of spray, and then throws on a plain dark-blue t shirt and khaki shorts. Dark white high socks peek out of his red converse. He simply scruffs up his hair and attempts to spruce up his green mohawk before grabbing his phone and heading downstairs.

And so begins his hell.

At school, his friend Scott comes up to him. Despite his slight hygenic issues, Duncan considered the red-haired boy a friend.

"Wow, you're actually here." Duncan nods, giving his friend a handshake greet.

"I know. Kill me now." He says as he leans on his locker and groans loudly.

"Oh man, you should've been here yesterday. Some guy pulled off Anna Maria Santos' top." Duncan perks up at this.

"Oh really?"

xxXXX

 **Ay wassup you guys it me**

 **So I want to thank** **pizzawizz** **the first comment for this story AYYY YOU GO FAM YOU ARE ELITE AND COOL you can sit with nme and my fam in the back of the bus on the field trip!**

 **I'm corny**

 **UNTIL NEXT TIME**

 **ALSO: earlier in the story I mentioned a zoey character passing out papers. I was just trying to come up with a name and forgot about Zoey Zoey. So it's a different Zoey. Zoey Yeltz is TDRI Zoey.**


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